FINDING OUR WAY

 

I woke early, attention tethered to the bird call
as they build their nests within the walls
we once lit fires between. Regardless of season
we must all find ways to shelter and survive.

I ran early, out into the open morning where air
was still yawning and I thought about sleep
and what it takes to catch a dream at the far end
of the wood when you aren’t sure of the way back.

I climbed the slow hill, with flattened breath
and caught two moons under the still grey light
kindly carved into the edges of memory
in this growing garden we water with tears.

I came early, to ponder position by tall towers
no longer watchful with feet that haven’t settled
while the sun, I cannot see, casts its light
onto two white moons above a thousand eyes

no longing seeing.

I woke early and still came up upon the moon.

 

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

TRACKS OF TEARS

Day 15; National Poetry Writing Month 30 Days/30 Poems #NaPoWriMo

There’s a girl
this morning
on the metro,
unaware of the crowds,
unaware that I’m late.

There’s a girl
on the metro
packed with tears,
with tears in her eyes
and no place for more lies.

There’s a girl
on the metro
in the morning,
moving through motions,
through stations of grieving
and tunnels of tears.
Her breath is broken
like she’s been running
from something,
like this train
that we’re on
that keeps on breaking

and she’s breaking
this morning,
this girl
on the metro,
with tears
and tunnels
and stops
with no answers.

This girl
on the metro,
unaware that I’m late,
this girl who’s missing
something on the metro,
who’ll miss that someone
who’s making her cry,
who’ll miss that someone
when the lines divide

and leaves her
in tracks of tears.

All Words and Photographs By Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on SoundCloud:

ON THE WATER

 

In the morning
by the river
gently waking
all nature is reflected
in the slowly moving current
in the trees as they bare witness
in the grass as it bares its blanket

in the morning.

I saw you like this
at the birth of morning
as day spawned its dawning
as I rowed out onto the water
and I sailed on ever further
from the darkness into light

in the silent stillness of the morning

as if I were following creation
on back to its conception
as if all before had vanished
as if the earth had shed all blemish

in the stillness of the morning’s silence.

I saw you like this one morning
as I waded out into the reflection
on the river that caressed creation

in the morning, still and silent

like I were back at the beginning
to see how it all had started
before we stripped it, raped it, starved it.

I saw you like this
one morning
as I sailed
along the river
as I looked into the waters

flowing
forever onwards

and saw all that time could never capture
and a beauty we can never truly hold

and I wondered
who will worship
all this wonder
when we’ve killed
each other off?

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

THE ANGEL OF THE MORNING

The darkness passes
To nights recesses
As the Angel rises
Embraces, caresses.

Through angelic actions
Her wings will open,
With one calming touch
Our souls shall waken.

With visions deep
From inner eyes
We’ll embrace the earth
And the heavenly skies.

‘Awaken dear world
To the visions I bring,
As I charm you from sleep
Through the songs that I sing.

I’ll grant you a gift
So gracious and fine,
All darkness shall drain
And the light reign divine.

In this morning of innocence,
Embrace all simplicity,
Let your souls rise elated
As you embrace all its purity.’

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